


Gonna buy me a dog

by notwhatyouseeinthemovies



Category: Baby Driver (2017), Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: AU, Angst, Blossoming Romance, Crying, Explicit Language, Failing relationships, Light homophobic language, M/M, Meet-Cute, Reservoir Dogs typical cursing, Secret Identities, as well as probably other shit, domestic abuse, lighthearted fluff at least for now, maybe eventual smut, tags are subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22489687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notwhatyouseeinthemovies/pseuds/notwhatyouseeinthemovies
Summary: After his time in prison Baby starts a new life for himself with Debora by his side, however, things seem to be headed downhill for the two. As Baby deals with the fact that he doesn't want to admit to himself that Debora has become abusive, someone comes his way and ends up lighting up his life again. However, that person may just end up leading him down a path that he thought he had put behind him a long time ago.
Relationships: Baby (Miles)/Debora mentioned, Mr Pink/Baby (Miles)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	1. Heartbeat is a Love Beat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello once again to my fabulous readers. This is sure to be a weird one. 
> 
> This idea came to me while listening to random music from the 60s and 70s on Spotify. I suddenly got the idea to combine the worlds of Tarantino's "Reservoir Dogs" with Wright's "Baby Driver". This fic takes place in a fully modern AU with Baby having legally changed his name as such, and living his life with Debora after serving in prison. The two of them have taken up shifts at a diner in LA in order to pay rent while dealing with issues together at home. Mr. Pink is going from job to job, getting whatever work he can. 
> 
> The title comes into play later in the fic, and is based on a song of the same name by The Monkees. Since this is a fic combining two musically driven films, it will be a songfic to say the least. 
> 
> Posting the first two chapters right now to see what everyone thinks of it. I'll be writing more in the coming days. Not sure exactly where the plot is going, I have some ideas and the rating/content warnings are subject to change as I may include some smut and violence among other things. 
> 
> Enjoy this weird ass couple that, in my opinion, surprisingly works. 
> 
> Don't forget to tip your waiters, peace~

Baby’s POV: 

I walk into “Al’s Diner” at around 7:00 am to start my shift, luckily avoiding colliding shifts with Deborah. I hide my face as I walk in, hoping my boss won’t notice the shiner forming a dull purple circle around my right eye. My baseball cap brim is lowered over my forehead, casting a shadow over everything above my nose as I make my way through the diner floor and into the backroom, all the while singing to myself. 

“When I start to hear the sound of,  
A heartbeat, it's a lovebeat,  
And a lovebeat is a good vibration,  
Oh, a heartbeat it's a lovebeat,  
And when we meet , it's a good sensation”

I make my way into the back room, taking off my jacket and looking in the small mirror above the old, broken sink in the corner, whilst deftly applying some foundation to the bruised area. Within a minute flat I’m out on the floor, just at the moment I finish my song and lower the volume a bit as the next one starts up. 

I look around the empty diner, scanning the chipped wood tables and red, squeaky pleather seats for signs of life. Unlike the late nights here where I’d describe the place as deserted, the mornings here are just as lifeless, but they have a pleasantness to them that I just can’t describe. Just before the rush comes in, I get a bit of time to listen to my music in peace. Weekends are pretty quiet during the mornings, that is until you reach around 10 o’clock or so, but the weekdays, they’re even more dead. It’s a sunny Thursday morning as I start my shift so I don’t expect to see anyon- 

Well, I’ll be damned. 

A young guy, as young as he can be I guess, maybe in his early 30s sits in a booth off to the far right, a menu hiding most of his face. He’s wearing a black suit and a matching tie, sitting all alone in a corner. If I didn’t look close enough I would have missed him. Must be one of the businessmen from the city stopping in for a quick bite to eat. 

I saunter over to his booth, taking out my notepad as well as one of the buds from my ears. 

“Welcome to Al’s, what can I get you this mornin?” 

“Oh, shit uh right” the man mumbles as he nearly drops his menu, clearly lost in thought “I’ll take the complete breakfast.” 

“Alright, that comes with a side of bacon or hash browns, what’s your poison?” 

“Hash browns” 

“Good choice” I start scrawling chicken-scratch “Anything to drink?”

“Coffee, black” 

“Got it, if you need anything I’ll be around. We don’t have much business to deal with right now anyway.”

I turn on my heels and head for the back to hand the order over to Al. 

“Wait”

“Yes?” 

I swivel back around on my converse 

“That song before…was that Heartbeat is a Love Beat by little Tony DeFranco and the DeFranco Family?” 

I feel my lips twitch up into a grin 

“Why yes it was.” 

“Fuck man, I haven’t heard that song since I was a kid! Where’d a kid like you find out about that song anyhow?” 

“I like music. I’ve grown up around music my whole life.” 

“I can tell” the man eyes up my earbuds, giving me a sort of quizzical look but not questioning me about it “Hey, have you been listening to K-Billy’s super sounds of the 70’s weekend?”

“No, I haven’t. What’s that?” 

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s on WQXT, 9 to 6 pm, all of the best shit of the decade.” 

“Well I guess I gotta check it out…I don’t listen to radio much anymore.”

“Ah, so you’ve gone full digital age, eh?” 

“Oh no, no. this?” I tug at my remaining earbud “This is out of necessity…I have tinnitus. A hum in the drum. This helps make it less painful.”

“And your boss is okay with you listening to music all day?” the man peaks over my shoulder to look into the back kitchen where Al is arguing with someone on the phone. 

“Yeah” I shrug “As long as I can take the orders and don’t cause too much trouble with the customers, he doesn’t mind none.” 

“That’s pretty sweet, getting to listen to music while on the job. I wish my boss would let us do that.” 

“It’s not always the best thing…sometimes I forget where I am and I start dancing in the isles. I feel like an idiot when I realize people are staring.” 

We both start laughing for a second when I hear my boss clear his throat from the other room. I have no clue what his problem is sometimes. There’s no-one else in the place and this guy sure doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. 

After giving Al the order, I make my way back to the table, hopefully out of earshot this time. 

“So…” I lean against the table “I gotta ask, what do you do for a living with a getup like that?”

“Oh” the man blinks for a second before a wave of nerves seem to hit him “These digs? They’re nothing special, I’m a shipping consultant.” 

“That sounds interesting, what do they do?” 

“Pretty much what it says on the label. I help get things from one place to another.” 

“What kind of things?” I raise a brow. I must admit, he’s piqued my curiosity. 

“Anything you need.” He gives me what can only be described as an award-winning smile.

“Why, are you looking for something…” he squints to read my nametag “…Baby?” 

His face goes from a smile to complete and utter confusion in an instant, and then settles into a reddish hue upon realizing what he just said. 

“I mean I didn’t mean to say that, I mean, I didn’t mean to call you baby I just…is that really your name kid?” 

“Yes it is” I smirk, quite used to these kinds of reactions ever since I got it legally changed after serving time. Turns out less people will recognize you if you change your name from the one that was in all the papers. I was always Baby with real people, never Miles. All my friends knew that, my family knew that, even Deborah knew that, way before she knew who I was. Miles was already dead to me by the time I got caught, but it officially died when the name was used against me. 

“I’m not gonna lie kid, that’s a weird fuckin name…but, I’m gonna be honest, it fits you.” 

“Thank you, sir…do you happen to have a name?” 

“Pink, call me Mr. Pink” 

“Pink? Is that a real last name?” 

“Is Baby a real first name?”

“Touché.” 

The bell dings up at the counter and I bring over the plates, setting them down as more people flood the diner, beginning the morning crowd.


	2. Baby Ride Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby and Pink meet again at the diner. Just as Baby seems to think this will be their only meeting place, Mr. Pink turns the tables on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter, tell me what you think and I'll gauge how I should continue this fic. The chapter title is taken from "Baby Ride Easy", specficially the Carlene Carter and Dave Edmunds version. It doesn't appear in the chapter specifically but I thought it was quite fitting of the situation so far. 
> 
> Also this one is not as long as the first. They won't all be this short I promise.

I don’t see Mr. Pink again until about a week later when I’m sharing the evening shift with Deborah. We’re still not on speaking terms and I can’t tell whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I have a hard time looking at her lately, it makes something weird form in the pit of my stomach. 

“Hello sir, and how are you doing this fine evening?” 

“Baby.” 

Mr. Pink smiles at me as the blush creeps up his pale cheeks once again, obviously not used to a romantic pet name being someone’s first and only name. 

“How are you Pink? Haven’t seen you around in a while. Been busy with work?” 

“Tell me about it” he scoffs “They call, I go, ya know?” 

As if on cue, a small, disposable cellphone emits a loud buzz on top of the table, alerting us both of its presence. 

“Yeah…I’ve been there.” I squint a bit, growing wary of the situation even if nothing concrete has come of the thoughts dancing around in my head. 

“So how have you been kid? You look like shit” he points to my eye where I missed a spot with concealer today “How long have you been trying to hide that ugly son-of-a-gun?” 

“Oh uh…for about a week or so…is it that noticeable?” I give a nervous laugh. 

“Just a little. I noticed it last week too when I first saw ya, wasn’t gonna say anything though. Get into a fight?” 

“Sorta” I look up and across the room Deborah meets my gaze. For the fraction of a second she’s looked at me for the first time in days. I quickly look down as I imagine she does the same, passing me by as she makes her way to another table, making me flinch in my spot beside Pink. 

“Hey uh…you must work shit hours in this place, right?” I look back over to Mr. Pink who looks antsy. He must have realized my situation. God, I am not ready for anyone’s pity right now. 

“Yeah, I guess. I get by.”

“Look, I don’t do this often but here…” Pink takes a twenty dollar bill out of his coat pocket and slides it across the table like he was dealing coke or something else nefarious. 

“A tip? But I haven’t even served you yet.”

“Yeah, well I said I don’t do this often.” 

I go to reach for the money before he suddenly slides it back closer to himself. 

“On one condition…we take this money and go see a film together. Whichever one you want.” 

“I uh” I stand there, completely caught off guard “when?” 

“After your shift?” 

“I uh, I get off in 20.” 

“I’ll see you then Baby.”

What the fuck just happened?


	3. Saturday Night At The Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby And Pink go for a ride to the cinema, not sure where this turn of events in their lives is leading them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello my wonderful readers, I hope this chapter is as good as the first two which i wrote in an almost manic haze at 2 am. This chapter is where things start getting a bit darker or just sadder in general if you will. So a content warning is in place for this one as there are descriptions of abuse and PTSD-related issues. 
> 
> Now I, among others, would never in a million years peg someone as sweet and delightful as Debora to be an abusive partner, but, i'm letting my suspension of disbelief guide me in writing parts where I talk about her in this fic. After all, just because someone seems nice on the outside doesn't mean they can be very different behind closed doors. And just because someone was nice to their partner once upon a time, doesn't mean they always will be. Personality traits and feelings aren't set in stone. 
> 
> That being said, this chapter may be a bit hard to get through if you're a victim (or even a perpetrator) of abuse. I know it was hard as hell for me to write it, but it did help me vent a bit about shit i'm trying to get past. 
> 
> And if you are being abused/were abused, I hope that you know you're not alone. Take care, love yourselves and don't forget to comment telling me what you think of the story so far.
> 
> (Also there's an odd reference to It's Always Sunny in here and honestly i'm not sure why. I just needed a random name for this fic.) 
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from Saturday Night At The Movies by The Drifters.

I stand at the edge of the parking-lot after clocking out for the night, feeling all sorts of jittery in the cold February air. I didn’t see Mr. Pink inside when my shift ended so I decided to wait for him outside. For a minute I thought he might have stood me up, decided I really wasn’t worth his time and dipped without a word, but then, there he is, in that cheap suit waving over to me whilst standing beside an off-white 77 Coupe DeVille.

I make my way over to him, turning down my music as I go. The Drifters still crooning in my ears all low and smooth

“Saturday night at the movies,  
Who cares what picture you see”

Sure, the song is about a date, but it’s the only song I had on this iPod that was fitting enough for the night’s events. Wait, what exactly were the events gonna be anyhow? I’ve never been asked something like that before. Sure, I asked Debora if I could accompany her to the laundromat (back when I first met her, I would have accompanied her to hell and back if she’d asked me), but I’ve never had the tables turned on me like this before. I’ve never been so caught off guard. I didn’t even think to ask if this was a date or not. Is that what this is? Or do business-type guys usually ask random waiters to go with them to a movie at 10 on a Saturday night? This is a situation I don’t know the protocol for at all.

“Baby”

He flashes his warm grin and opens the drivers side door for me. I get in, feeling all flushed and warm in the face like I’m Sandra Dee being taken to the school dance by Danny Zuko and its strange. Not cause he’s a guy, but because I’ve never felt like this with someone, anyone ever for that matter. Sure, Debora made me feel all warm inside from the moment she first spoke to me but nobody has ever tried this hard for me, like they have something to prove. Something in me wants to pull him in by the shoulders and tell him to relax, just be himself, but the other part of me is looking over at him getting in on the drivers side and gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turn white and I think to myself of just how cute it is that someone is trying this hard for someone like me.

I’ve never thought of myself as someone who would be into a doting, nervous wreck of a potential lover, but maybe this is something I need right now.

“So Baby” he looks over, attempting what I think might be relaxing into the seat “Thought of a movie yet?”

“Oh uh no, shit, sorry” I look down, fiddling with the scroll wheel of my iPod, feeling that nervous energy creep up on me from his side of the vehicle. It must be contagious.

“Oh, well that’s okay. We can figure that out once we get there. You ready to go music man?”

“Music man?”

“Yeah” he nods in the direction of my iPod and I realize that I always forget it’s there. It’s such a constant part of my life that only outsiders usually comment on it to remind me of how weird it is. Usually they’re reminding me of how weird I am for always listening to it, but Pink doesn’t seem like that sort of guy. I wonder if he’d be into Egyptian Reggae.

“Oh yeah” I laugh a bit “Sorry, thought you were talkin about the Shirley Jones movie.”

“Jesus kid, you know that picture? Honestly, how old are you anyhow?”

“Late 20s…” I say before I realize I’m giving non-specific information, a bad habit from my days of working for Doc.

_And Baby, don’t tell anyone anything. We’re not here to make friends._

“28” I mumble a bit, hoping I haven’t lost Pink’s attention as he starts up the car and peels out of the parking lot.

“28? Fuckin hell man, I’m only 30 and I already look twenty years older than you. I am aging like fuckin milk, just like my dad.”

“Well, I don’t know your dad but I think you look good” it’s out of my mouth before my brain catches up with it. Damn you Johnny Moore for getting me in the mood. This wasn’t supposed to be a date. Was it?

I nervously peak up from my newest musical selection, “True” by Spandau Ballet, to see Mr. Pinks face go from peach to the color of freshly ripened strawberries. And in the opening synth notes and thin guitar melody I suddenly realize why they use that song to introduce the love interest in sappy movies. She should be here, walking down the hall towards me in slow motion, flipping her hair to the side, effortlessly gorgeous and drenched in perfume. But she’s not here. Here is a man in a twenty dollar suit jacket with a crumpled up tie, smelling of cigarettes and bathroom cologne, driving around in the beat up version of what I imagine is his dream car, mumbling on something about how they just don’t write love songs like they used to, and never before has that song fit more perfectly than now.

“What are you smiling at?” Pink smirks, that nervous blush creeping up his ears as he feigns having any sort of composure.

“Nothing” I look out the window, pretending I wasn’t staring at all in the first place.

“Well, here we are” I look up as I realize just where he’s taken us.

“No way” my eyes widen as I take in the sight of rows upon rows of cars all facing a large screen projecting the image of some sort of old B-movie about giant insects attacking a city.

“Well, yeah, way” He smirks, procuring us a spot beside a blue station wagon “You didn’t pick a movie so I thought, to hell with it, why not go somewhere a bit different…unless you hate it. Shit, I never asked if you liked these kinds of movies.”

“I love em’” I smile, putting a hand on Pinks arm without so much of a second thought. I barely know the guy but I feel as comfortable with him as I would with an old friend. I knew people like Buddy and Darling for years but I never felt comfortable around them. Maybe this is what my parole officer was talking about. I need to get out there, make real friends, figure out what a normal relationship is like. One where you don’t rob banks and get into high speed chases together.

“Good” Pink smiles back as he sinks into his seat, the film screen reflecting back onto his eyes in an almost hypnotic string of lights.

I stare forward as well, not moving my hand from where it rests on his arm.

“Jesus Christ!” Pink jumps a little bit, suddenly moving his arm and grabbing my hand as he watches a horrific scene unfold on the screen. One of the mutant ants spit acid onto a woman and started moving in for the kill just as the camera cut away.

“You really scared of these movies Mr. Pink?” I smirk, nudging him a bit whilst looking down at our now, interlocking hands.

“Shut the fuck up” he grins, nudging back a bit harder but still not quite letting go of my hand.

“Cause we can go if you’re too scared” I smirk, egging him on a bit more because, damn it, its cute when he swears like that.

“I said shut the fuck up kid before I shut your mouth for ya”

A beat of silence.

“Try me”

Another beat passes us by before Pink grabs me by the collar and pulls me in for a bruising kiss. Our mouths move in tandem for a moment, trying to find a good rhythm, when Pink suddenly licks at my lower lip. I gasp, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as I lick alongside his lower lip as well, proving that I’m on the same page as him. I hear him unbuckle his seat belt as he leans in even closer, wrapping one arm around the back of my neck, teasing the short hairs that are standing up on their own. The kiss devolves into pure chaos, all teeth and tongue as we introduce open mouths to the situation and I suddenly feel like I’m back in high school kissing Stacy Corvelli under the bleachers. Except this time there is no security guard there to catch us and no teenage nerves to hold us back. All the adult nerves and pretense about this being a date or not has long since passed us by as we made our way to the drive-in, all culminating in a rush of endorphins and pure need, like we’ve never been touched like this our whole lives.

Well, I know I have, but I have no clue about him. Shit, I never thought to ask if he was clean. I didn’t know I’d be getting this far, hell I didn’t know this was a date up until a few minutes ago. Has he ever been with someone? Looking at him I’d say he has. He looks older, more experienced, even if he is only a few years older than me. Besides, he should be beating off people with a sick, he’s so god damn attractive. Has he ever been with a guy? Is he gay, bi, pan? As our teeth clash together in an awkward battle of tongues, I quickly realize I really know nothing about this guy and I find myself stopping in my tracks.

“Wait”

He pulls off me, giving me some space.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

I cut him off in what is sure to be a lengthy apologetic rant.

“No, no, it’s okay. Mr. Pink” I lace my fingers through his once more as I look into his nervous eyes “I want to, I really, really want to but I just…I realized I don’t know a damn thing about you. And I’m not sayin that you have to know someone’s entire life story before screwing them senseless, for lack of a better term but…I wanna know more about you.”

“You do…? I’m not sure you wanna go that far with me kid, I’m not exactly boyfriend material. I’m more “one-night stand number scrawled on a bathroom stall” kind of material. Besides…don’t you have some pretty young thing in a miniskirt waiting for you at home?”

And then it hits me, I curl up into my seat, feeling my entire body tense the way it used to when my parents fought in the car. It sinks down to my stomach like I just swallowed a couple of five-pound weights whole and the reverberation of those weights rings out through my entire body, making the tips of my fingers tingle with numbness.

“Shit kid…what did she do to you?” Mr. Pink relaxes back against his seat as I start feeling myself slip into a sort of catatonia. I wish I could say something. I wish I could say that she hurt me. I wish I could say that she hit me last week, hard, for coming home too late, probably hanging out with the wrong crowd again, A fate which would probably greet me later tonight. I wish I could say she smashed things when she got angry, threw a vase against a wall right beside my head. I wish I could say I’m scared to see her get annoyed about something small, because I know that if I say anything or nothing at all, it could set her off and I’d be running and hiding in the bathroom for hours again.

But I don’t say that, because she’s my girlfriend and I think I love her. I’m supposed to love her.

“Baby” Mr. Pink puts a hand on mine again sending me reeling back into the cushions, feeling like my skin is on fire “…look kid, you don’t have to talk, just know that from here on out my place is always open, if you don’t wanna go home again.”

I want to say yes, yes, a million times yes. I want to pack up everything and leave because I’m scared to sleep there most nights, but I know I can’t. I try to justify it to myself, that I don’t know this man and that I’m moving too fast for this…whatever this is. That this is a fleeting feeling of lust and that Debora is my forever-girl. How could she not be? She’s been with me through hell and back. She’s seen me walking on sunshine, jamming out to my favorite songs and falling back into the blackness, crying in the back of her car when I hear a song that reminds me of my mom. It would be wrong to leave her now.

“My uh…” Mr. Pink starts, desperately trying to light a cigarette in trembling hands “…my parents, they weren’t good people. Ha, well uh, not like I’m much better but, anyway. They fought a lot, my mom was a mean drunk and my dad wasn’t much better. They used to say the booze was the one thing keeping them together. It’s a shame it was the one thing making them hit me. But the point is, one day when I turned 17, I said I had enough and I walked out. Never looked back. Sometimes I used to think they loved me. Some mornings my mom would wake up, hung over and tell me that she loved me and she was proud of me and how far I’d come…but she’d only end up knocking my lights out by the time the day was done. I was lying to myself for my entire life, saying that they really cared because they were my parents, that they were supposed to care. They had to care…”

He shook his head at me

“…sometimes the hardest part is admitting it to yourself.”

And with that I felt the tears start streaming down my face, landing in little droplets on my shirt, a shirt that was in need of a good washing anyways. I could see Mr. Pink lean in a little before leaning back again, making sure to keep a close distance before I decide to close the space between us and lean my head on his shoulder, turning slightly to wrap my arms around his sides.

“I’m scared” I breathe into his shoulder, feeling my own tremble and shake as he wraps his arms around me.

“I know kid, I know.”


	4. My Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby comes home after his date with Pink to find Debora waiting up for him. 
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: DOMESTIC ABUSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers, it's been a while for this fic, and if you're still reading it, thank you. I'm sorry the chapters aren't coming as fast as i'd (and maybe you'd) like. I have been dealing with a depressive episode and a lot of work this week, but I will try to find inspiration where I can in order to continue my various works. 
> 
> This chapter is a sad one, especially if you have dealt with abuse in the past. If you know you can't handle this sort of thing, I suggest not going on with this story. However, if you have, weather you choose to read or not, I hope you know you're never alone out there. 
> 
> The song for this chapter is My Girl by The Temptations.
> 
> Lots of love, hope you enjoy the chapter and please, please comment. It motivates me to keep writing.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this, kid?” Mr. Pink makes a pained face as he pulls up in front of my shared apartment with Debora.

“Yeah, I have some things to do at home anyways.” It’s not like I’m completely lying at this point. I have to do a load of laundry and finish a book I’ve been reading before I take it back to the library tomorrow. Debora’s probably asleep already so maybe I can get some stuff done if I don’t make too much noise. Besides, she’d kill me if I went out for the entire night without telling her.

“Alright…but if you need anything don’t forget to call.” Pink hands me a crumpled-up receipt for some fast food place with his number scrawled across the back.

“Thanks, I’ll try” I give a halfhearted smile, everything in me screaming Kiss him!, but my nerves take over at the thought of Debora seeing us from the window. So, I quickly duck out of the car with the promise to call him soon before making my way to my apartment.

I unlock the door as quietly as possible, opening it slowly, not realizing that will cause it to creak louder than nails on a chalkboard as I enter the living room. The room is dark, any moonlight begging to get through is stopped by the off-white curtains on the back wall of the room, and all the lights are off, covering the room in a sort of blue-black hue. I put my keys down in our shared bowl and take off my converse whilst sitting down on an ottoman right beside the door. Once I have my shoes off, I start making my way through the kitchen/living room area and in the direction of my bedroom, or at least what I can vaguely tell is the right direction, when a voice suddenly speaks out from the darkness.

“I thought your shift ended three hours ago.”

I stop in my tracks, nearly jumping out of my skin as I struggle to find purchase on a nearby counter.

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought we talked about this.”

I shiver in the middle of the dark apartment. I can tell where her voice is coming from, somewhere in the middle of the living room. And that’s when I see her, her grey shadow in the outline of the chair, legs crossed and arms at her sides.

“Baby. I know you can hear me, don’t play dumb with me.”

I hear her get up and I quickly start scrambling back, against the wall, finding it difficult to speak.

“Baby! Answer me god damn it!”

I stop dead in my tracks again, knowing moving away will only make it worse. She seems to have stopped as well as all I can hear from her now is her exasperated breathing.

“I-I went out for a bit.”

“Uh huh, where?”

“I went out to get dinner.”

“Oh yeah? Who with?”

I hear her take a step closer and I have to convince my body not to take a step back.

“Nobody. I was just hungry after work is all.”

“You were gone for three hours; it doesn’t take that long to get something to eat and then come back home. Now I’m gonna ask you again, who were you with?”

“Nobody, I swear Debora. Please just let me-”

I feel a pain on my left cheek and a ringing in my ears, louder than it usually is. I hold my hand up to my cheek, feeling heat radiate off it as I get shoved backwards down the hall, making me stumble again and knock down a picture hanging on the wall. It falls to the floor and shatters, glass going everywhere.

“Look what you did! That was a good photo of us too! Now I’m gonna have to clean all this up, aren’t I?”

I try standing still again, my body somehow coming to the conclusion that if she can’t see me, she won’t touch me.

“Why the hell aren’t you listening to me?”

And that’s when I feel a sharp pain, like an intake of too much air mixed with water going down the wrong pipe, and then there’s blood running down my nose. I stumble back a bit from that as well, my hands finding the doorknob to the bathroom and I quickly open the door, rushing in and locking it behind me before she has the chance to grab me.

“Baby! Get out of there! I’m sorry okay, I just wanna talk to you

…Baby please open the door.

...Baby I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that, I swear.

…I promise I won’t do that again. Let’s just go to bed and I’ll make it up to you in the morning.

…Baby?

I wake up in the morning with sunlight streaming through the blinds of the small window above the bathtub and the feeling of cold porcelain on my skin. I stand up, hitting my head on the faucet and trying not to scream out in pain. I wouldn’t want to wake Debora. It’s then that I realize I don’t even know what time it is. I check my watch and realize it’s 7:30 am and that Debora is likely already at her shift at the diner. I feel a wash of tension flow from me as I get up from my place in the tub, joints aching and skin cold to the touch.

I head out into the living room, now bathed in a white glow from the open curtains. Debora must have opened them that morning. I look over to the green armchair where she must have been sitting the night before and I quickly look away, making sure my keys hadn’t been touched from their spot in the bowl, which they luckily hadn’t.

I stare at my small ring of keys, one for the house and one for locking up the diner. That’s all I have these days after having my license revoked. Honestly, I don’t miss driving as much as I thought I would. Sure, it was fun and sure I was good at it, but most of the driving I did is attached to bad memories now. Driving around recklessly in cars I hotwired as a kid, driving around for Doc, even thinking of driving around town with Deb makes me sick to my stomach now. I decided I’m much better without a car a long time ago and I haven’t looked back since.

I rummage around in my jacket pockets for a second, making sure she hadn’t taken anything off me last night, and to my surprise I find nothing but my wallet and a little crumpled up receipt with Pink’s number written on the back.

I smile to myself as I remember the way Pink smiled, the way he rambled when he was nervous, the way he looked at me while I was listening to “True” and god, I’d give anything to do that again. Before I can give it a second thought, I’m dialing his number, waiting patiently beside the counter.

“Hello?”

I pretty much melt in a puddle on the floor at his voice before I remember that I have to speak.

“Hey, Pink, it’s Baby.”

“Oh my god, Baby, kid, how are you?”

He tries to mask the nervousness in his voice but it ultimately seeps through. I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I don’t want him to feel pity for me, damn it, I shouldn’t have said anything about her last night. I guess it was kind of unavoidable though. Sooner or later he’d find out.

“I’m fine, how are you?”

“I’m okay, work sucks but I’m ok.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, work sucks with me too honestly.”

“I can imagine in that fuckin place.”

We share a laugh before I remember why I’m calling in the first place.

“Hey I was wondering…I don’t know if it’s too soon but, would you like to go out today?”

“Sure, I’d love that. Anywhere you had in mind in particular?”

“Not really…I just really wanted to see you again honestly.”

I rub the hairs on the back of my neck back down as they light up again, feeling the kind of goosebumps I felt when I first asked a girl to prom as a kid.

“I’d love that. Hmm…wanna go out to eat somewhere that’s not a diner?”

I can almost hear the blush radiating from his cheeks.

“Sure, that sounds awesome. Where to?”

“I know this great little place on Vermont Street, I can give you the directions if you want.”

“Wait, I’m sorry I uh, shit, I should have mentioned this earlier. I don’t drive.”

I fidget with my jacket’s zipper, wondering if he’ll be annoyed about that.

“You don’t? That’s okay. I’ll pick you up then, is 30 minutes alright?”

“Yeah, wow, sure.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that I didn’t know I had been holding.

“See you later Baby.”

“See you soon Pink.”

I hang up the phone and twirl around my kitchen, eventually finding my way into the Livingroom and turning on the stereo as loud as I can without annoying the neighbors. Last time they threatened to call the cops, and honestly, I don’t want to deal with the cops for anything even as tiny as that anymore.

I start singing to myself in the mirror with a hairbrush as I get ready, frowning when I see the dried, wine colored stains of blood under my nose and I quickly make work of removing them with a damp tissue.

“I've got sunshine on a cloudy day  
When it's cold outside I've got the month of May”

I continue singing to myself as I leave the bathroom, making my way into the bedroom for a change of clothes, deciding on a plain blue t-shirt and some darker jeans.

“Well I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?”

After I look as freshened up as I can in the time I have, I make my way to the front door as I hear Pink’s car beep outside. I stop for a moment when I notice a note on the door.

“My girl  
Talkin' 'bout my girl  
My girl”


End file.
